


Midnight Visitor

by Heidigard



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Gen, POV Sherlock Holmes, Pining, Post-Reichenbach, Reichenbach Angst, Vignette, Watching Someone Sleep
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-22
Updated: 2013-12-22
Packaged: 2018-01-05 15:12:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 300
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1095489
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Heidigard/pseuds/Heidigard
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The story is set a short time after Reichenbach.<br/>There is one thing Sherlock didn't factor into his plan: How much he would miss John.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Midnight Visitor

**Author's Note:**

> A short something I wrote quite a while back. Thanks to Mop for the Beta. This has not been Brit-Picked so if anything catches your eye, feel free to point it out

**Midnight visitor**  
  
He knows John's sleep patterns. He tells himself it will be easy to sneak in, just this once, and take a look - just one! - to make sure he's still there. He silently appears in the doorway to John's bedroom, his feet making not a sound on the old wooden stairs. For a minute, he just stands there like a wraith cloaked in shadow, watching John's chest rise and fall, mouth half open in a pale and grief-worn face. He almost jumps when there's a voice from the body in the bed, low and hoarse with sleep.  
  
"I can smell you, you know. Even though you're not real." John's eyes remain closed even as Sherlock's breath hitches minutely, startled. "Just… don't go away just yet. Stay a little longer." John's brow creases like he has to squeeze his eyes shut consciously now, refusing to wake up fully by forcing himself not to look.  
  
Sherlock feels his heart start to tremble because of all the things these whispered words imply… He wants to say something, assure John that he is, in fact, there. He wants to take the pain on his features and remould it into peace. But he can't. Not yet. He can only watch, frozen in place, giving John this one small piece of comfort until the other man falls asleep again, features gradually calming as slumber reclaims him. The relaxing muscles of his face release a bead of moisture that trickles down from the corner of his eye and soaks into the strands of sandy-brown hair covering his right ear.  
  
Sherlock is powerless. He feels small and guilty. Wasn't this visit supposed to make him feel _better_? But then again, if his friend is suffering this much from their separation, than he deserves to too.  
  
The end

**Author's Note:**

> Please give feedback!


End file.
